4:1 Home is where the heart is:Dempsey & Makepeace
by haveunotthought
Summary: Makepeace is back at work and Dempsey has a plan but will it come to fruition?
1. Chapter 1

Dempsey and Makepeace found themselves alone in the office. It was Wednesday; the weekend Harry had spent at the hospital and Dempsey had not felt inclined to another quiet weekend and had spent three heavy drinking nights with different guys from SI10 or his gym. Harry, he thought, seemed to have distanced her self yet again. Every time she did so he lost confidence, feeling not at all certain that she wouldn't leave properly despite all she had said about the exhibition she obviously had enjoyed the work. They seemed to be on a knife edge and the question of LA as an escape route still harboured in his mind. He had finally found time to pick up the two tickets he had ordered the previous weekend but that had been the easy bit.. Work never seemed quiet, he wished the criminals would give them a break and a few days where they didn't have to rush here and then there and follow that by an inordinate amount of report writing which is where he and Makepeace were at the moment.

"Have you thought about going home?" Makepeace suddenly asked out of the blue

"Home?" Dempsey thought it a strange question for mid afternoon half way through a stack of paperwork "Sure I'd love to go home but you normally tell me I have to do my share of the paperwork, now if you're volunteering Sergeant…"

" New York , now that Coltrane's gone"

"Well he's not gone yet" Dempsey wondered where the side ball had come from

"No but…"

"You think I'm outstaying my welcome?" Dempsey was instantly agitated, when it came to him and Makepeace war was never far away

"No" Harry was frustrated, she'd been building up to this question for ages and had finally found the resolve to ask one of her many nagging fears and all she got was antagonism

"You think you deserve that four weeks leave you bargained out of Spikings?" Dempsey scorned

Harry looked sharply "I saw it in the book" Dempsey pointed out with derision

Makepeace looked guilty "I've never claimed it"

"Not until I'm gone I guess" and with that Dempsey stood up and Harry was enraged at his needless resentment. There was an instantaneous explosion in her head and she set too with her accusations: "Well you have to admit you were an egotistical, conceited, self opinionated, rule flouting, gun shooting yank"

"Is that all?"

"No: patronizing, smug, self-important, self-righteous, self-satisfied, presumptuous brash, loud and downright insolent". Makepeace stopped to draw breath, as the list had extended her rage had subsided and evaporated; by the time she had got to smug a smile had started to find root and become fully fledged by the time she drew breath.

"Were?" Dempsey had picked up on the only word he was surprised to hear.

"Ok so I've got used to you" she conceded and Dempsey smiled as well

"Well you have to admit you were a toffee-nosed, priggish, goody two shoes uptight snob"

"Is that all?"

"No" he replied and took a deep breath "you were a pedantic, stuffy, snooty, superior, stuck-up 'Miss high and mighty'"

"I wasn't and am not" she defended

"You seemed like it to me"

"And now" she asked

"Well something's changed"

"May be it's your opinion"

"May be it's your attitude"

"May be nothings changed and like now you're still an aggressive, arrogant, loud, big-headed, gun shooting yank who's just got right up my nose"

"I know a cop in LA Harry Bosch, I've talked to him about working with the FEDs over there."

"Sorry?" Harry had been expecting a return attack and not an answer and she didn't much care for the answer either, it spoke more of her worst fears than anything else.

She had actually been enjoying the play fighting, it felt normal and it had been anything other than normal in the past few weeks.

"Where I would work back in the States" Dempsey had also enjoyed the sparring and this was his tease, or meant to be. Harry fell silent and Dempsey simply took it as an easy victory.

Tom and Dave came back into the office Harry turned back to her typing although her thoughts stayed with the concept of LA.

An hour later she was still typing and apart from a 'thanks' when a restless Dempsey had placed a cup of tea on her desk hadn't spoken at all. James was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He stood and leaned over Harry "Mind you" he spoke in hushed tones "I can't go anywhere until I find my lucky silver dollar" he looked straight into Harry's eye with as much of a knowing look as he could muster.

He intended to convey that Harry held his continued presence England totally in her power, once again she had no idea that he meant that much knowing the whole silver dollar thing to be a fabrication she took this to be more of his supercilious teasing. His inability to admit he'd ever been wrong was just another annoying trait that she had learnt to suffer, and if he had the audacity to refer his misplacing of the keys still without admission or apology she wondered why on earth she cared if he stayed or not. The trouble was that she did, very much.


	2. Chapter 2

Dempsey got fed up with watching Harry attempting to work; she seemed all over the place and not her usual methodical self. She tore up more paper than she typed on and kept re reading the same pages of the same files.

"You got anything there?" he asked looking up from the file he was reading

"Not really, why do you ask?"

"Because you keep re reading the page as if there's something big hidden in there"

"Oh no, sorry, nothing that I can see; do you want them?"

"No, else I'd have them in my pile on my desk"

"What's bothering you Harry?" he put down the file in his hand

"Nothing"

"Well it sure looks like something to me; you've not finished one report in half an hour"

"It doesn't look as if you have either lieutenant"

"I never do, you usually churn them out by the mile" he smiled and leaned forward

"So" Harry rested her chin on her clasped hands, supported by her elbows on the desk.

"So this is nothing unusual for me but it is for you so what's wrong?"

"I told you nothing"

"Is there anyway I can help with nothing?"

"You?" She sounded surprised

"Yes me, we are partners" he scanned her face trying to figure out what the problem was

"And what does that mean?" Harry was very defensive

"It means we work together and we help each other out"

"Well in that case you can type up the sixth jewel heist which is still waiting for completion" she fished underneath her current project and passed it to him.

"I didn't mean that sort of help"

"What sort of help did you mean then lieutenant?" She still held the file out, looking fiery in her countenance.

"Other help"

"Which is supposed to be?"

"Look if you don't want my help then don't bother" Dempsey was agitated now

"I said what help I wanted"

"I said don't bother, it's not important" Dempsey got up and walked towards the door

"Where are you going Dempsey?"

"Home – you seem to want me to go"

"I don't I…"

"Well there's obviously no point in me staying here"

"Dempsey…"

"You don't want my help – you're independent, self sufficient – you do it – I'm off"

The word cut across Harry and brought her up short, the fear raged inside her instantaneously and Dempsey noticed the inner jolt in her being. "I'll see you some time" he said and shrugging his shoulders walked out of the office.

Spikings walked in through the other door "Was that Dempsey"

"Yes Sir"

"Where's he going?"

"Heathrow?" she offered as a suggestion

"What!"

"I don't know Sir" Harry decided to back track, her previous comment had flown from the deepest seat of her fears. She knew that it was within him to just take off and the afternoon had basically spiralled down into hell in the space of an hour. Why oh why had she asked him about America ? Because, she reminded herself, she needed to know what was going on, what his fleeting resignation had meant and to try and understand why she had come back to work and what her future expectations could be.

So now she knew; if she worked he'd stay around whilst he wanted to, but one day, possibly today, he would go back to the US . She had a supporting role to his life but not an integral part; something she may as well start to comes to term with.

Spikings looked at the blankness on Harry's face and decided not to ask, he had hoped her return heralded a new understanding between his two officers but it was looking less likely by the day. He decided to bide time for a few more weeks, he didn't have any notion of what to do if they didn't resolve their problems. "I'll have those reports on my desk Sergeant" he barked

"As soon as they're finished Sir"

"This afternoon then Sergeant" his pointed reply

Harry grimaced and realising that at least a few would have to be on his desk before she went home and she started to type with a vengeance.

Dempsey drove off, he was mad. As he drove he flung the car round corners trying to analysis why he was so cross. Harry infuriated him, she asked weird questions then didn't listen to his answers but at the next turn he was mad at himself – why couldn't he say what he really wanted to?

He pulled up outside his flat and slammed on the brake. He slammed the door as he walked through then kicked the fridge shut as he poured a cold beer. He sat down and looked around; home he though 'bloody home'. May be he should book a holiday and visit New York , he really didn't feel like he belonged there anymore but may be he'd feel different when he got there. He could book a holiday and go to LA and spend some time with Harry then his brain seemed to get muddled up with the 'Harrys': As he first imagined patrolling with Lieutenant Harry Bosch he then realised his mind had placed Harry Makepeace by his side. The same transposition happen with bar scenes and the beach, Harry Makepeace pervaded every thought and his temper subsided and he warmed to their spatting; they really were so alike and at the same time so very different. He tried to analyse how that could be and as he failed he found himself smiling more and more. Aware of his hunger he returned to the fridge and cursed the empty shelves; he pulled open a draw to find a take away menu but decided to stuff his wallet in his pocket and go back out.


	3. Chapter 3

"You want to join the rest of us at the Bramcote for a quick one?" Chas asked Harry as she came out of the chiefs office having finally placed 5 written up reports on his desk, hoping it would be enough to plicate him.

"Thanks Chas" Harry smiled, convincingly she hoped "but I need to be getting home"

"Sure" Chas was already walking towards the door with Tom and Dave.

Now Harry had a free mind it made a bee line back to wondering where Dempsey was. "If Dempsey turns up tell him…" tell him what she thought 'that she loved him' 'that despite his pigheaded, presuming, self opinionated arrogance she loved his soft, caring, gentle, tender touches, concern and support' 'his laughter and jokes and outrageous story telling' 'his love of old films and theatre and ballet' lost in her thoughts she smiled then glanced around to see if anyone had noticed her distraction but they had all reached the pub long ago.

She picked up her coat and made her way home, he mind buzzing with the phrase she had almost let past but was now trying to fathom – the lucky silver dollar – it was still sitting in amongst her jewellery.

She didn't know what to do about it. If he really wanted to go home she couldn't hold him in England, it would be like keeping a lion caged – he needed to have the space to roam and to roar and it seemed England was too confining. 'Would it make a mockery of returning to the police force' was her next self question. She decided it definitely didn't, her work and skills would always be a testimony to the time she had worked with the Yank as her partner. 'O god' she was feeling all emotional now she took some deep breaths as she turned into Camberwell Grove determined to pick the coin up and drive over to Dempsey's

She turned the key in the lock and as the door open smelt a rich Italian tomato and basil aroma. She stopped in her tracks unsure what to make of it; she called out "Hello?"

"Hiya honey! Hard day at the office?" James walked out from the kitchen.

Harry's heart beat twice as fast as she ever thought was possible, half of her wanted to run and throw her arms around his neck and kiss him, the other half demanded an explanation before her very being was rent in two with confusion. A warmth was running from her heart out to her toes and finger tips as she made herself walk calmly into the kitchen; the huge sloppy grin on James' face barely expressed his feelings or the results of his contemplations, the presence of Harry had started his pulse racing and he flushed with pleasure.

"What's cooking?" she asked as she looked at the pots on the cooker, deeming it the only safe question she could ask.

"Chicken Cacciatore"

"You've cooked?" Harry didn't bother to hide her incredulity

"Well no, I called in at that restaurant" he watched Harry dip her finger into the sauce and taste it, she turned to him her eyes searching, looking for clues. She could read his satisfaction but about what she couldn't imagine.

"I thought you said you were going home" she accused him, her voice showing her incomprehension.

Triumph reigned inside Dempsey's head, he had finally worked something out "I did" he replied.

As they ate Dempsey remembered the tickets sitting in his jacket pocket.

Harry was complimenting him on keeping a restaurant meal warm and he was wondering how to ask her on a date but somehow looking at her sitting across the dinning room table turned him into a wobbling jelly.

"You're quite" she commented

"I was thinking about how you have a bit more free time now that natural history thing has finished" he began

"But not since my Father is in hospital" she reminded him.

It was enough to knock his emerging confidence and he decided to wait for another time. He went with Harry to visit Freddy and found him in a reassuringly good and witty mood, more anxious to get home than anything else. Lord Winfield and Harry spent sometime discussing some public fete happening in 10 days time at Winfield Hall. Harry promised him that she would be there and she had plenty of time after work and at the weekend to be in contact and sort it out. Dempsey thought of the tickets in his pocket - he'd so nearly missed the advert in The Times when he'd been distracted by the Julia Powell marriage announcement. This was the perfect date - well it would be for him and Harry - well he hoped it would be - if she wasn't fussing around her father or this fete thing. Initially he had thought just to pray for the great British weather but now an opportunity to invite Harry was becoming urgent and her other commitments disasterous. His expectations were sinking - fast.


	4. Chapter 4

Finally Dempsey had achieved the impossible, well not the impossible impossible of asking Makepeace if they could do the boyfriend / girlfriend thing, but they were both going out tomorrow night – together.

"Listen, I got the tickets so you can bring the food"

"Let me get this right: you invite a girl out to dinner and then ask her to bring the picnic" the tease showed in Makepeace's eyes if not in her voice

"Tell you what I'll bring the champagne" Dempsey countered

"If you ask a girl on a date you're supposed to arrange everything"

"Who said anything about a date?" Dempsey winked as he spoke but Makepeace missed it.

Harry kicked herself; her hidden hopes had come out and been firmly quashed the instant they met fresh air. She didn't know how much longer she could go on being content with the 'good friends' angle but in lieu of any better solution still she opted to continue.

A date was exactly what Dempsey had in mind as he rang around to get tickets. He had had every intention of asking her if she thought they could court but as usual when the moment for conversation came he was struck dumb; not once but three times he had seen his opportunity fly out of the window so now it was back to the old school style of tossing two tickets on her desk when the office was quite and just one days notice. With much practice he had made it look like a casual after thought 'he spotted the event and vaguely thought they could go so he picked up two tickets' and to keep it casual and non committal he asked her to make the picnic but wishing in his heart he could ask her out instead. Still may be they could talk about things there but somehow he doubted it. Makepeace had jumped at the opportunity – she was beginning to feel she was drowning with the bloody Winfield Hall Fete shadowing the whole of her free time (other than that taken by her fathers' hospitalisation).

Dempsey carried the hamper whilst Makepeace carried a blanket and cushion. They joined the stream of people making their way from the distant car park through the grounds just beyond Kenwood House. The summers evening was warm and being June the night a long way off. Both had spent sometime getting ready choosing clothes carefully to look as if they hadn't made any great effort when if truth be told they had tried on half a dozen outfits each. Dempsey had rang four stores before he found one stocking the pink champagne Harry like most although he would later claim that that it just happened to be in the one shop he was passing. Harry had ordered the food from Fortnum and Masons and chosen what Dempsey liked most but would also claim it was a happy coincidence and that she ordered from there for convenience.

"Hey Harriet is that you?" Michael called from behind

She turned at the sound of her name and smiled "Michael" she greeted him warmly and then noticed the crowd he was with "Angela, Henry, Verena! Who else is with you?"

Well James and you that will make eight of us, or may be 10, oh my goodness no I think there are more of us than that. Oh Harriet I don't know we just arranged to meet up and enjoy a jolly good picnic, I must say I didn't know anyone had managed to get hold of you, honestly Harriet you can be quite elusive sometimes." Michael was effusive and burbling along. Well I'm jolly glad you could come, was it good old Annabel who got you?"

"Oh no, James and I just came along but it's great to see you" Harry felt the dichotomy; being part of the crowd would be great fun but she also wanted a night with James, if there were just the two of them then maybe they would finally sort some stuff. 'Sorting stuff' was inherently very risky so she made no signs of excuses to separate from the crowd.

Dempsey noticed it all. The subliminal message he got was that a night with the crowd was more agreeable than a picnic with him alone. Never the less it was still a night out, he knew most of her friends and they always had a laugh – it was a fun crowd to be in, he tried to bury his disappointment. Michael was now leading the way and opening up the chairs he was carrying and choosing a reasonably flat area for everyone to spread out around.

Harry opened up the blanket she was carrying and placed it in front of the chairs. Henry put another one to the side of it and was waving madly to attract the attention of Louise who was standing at the entrance scanning the crowds. Dempsey put the hamper down and then joined in the various conversations that were happening.

Over the next half hour the crowds began to settle and the suppers began.

Harry withdrew slightly from the crowd to sit with James as everyone followed suit and started to open the picnics. The others also had arranged their food in groups. The champagne corks flew across each other and people offered food and drink samples across.

Harry looked at the champagne James had brought and smiled, it was her favourite. She caught his eye for the first time since they had had their evening invaded. She wanted to acknowledge his choice was spot on; as she held both glasses whilst James poured she kept her gaze on him. She couldn't but help wonder if they should have been alone. She enjoyed just looking at him, his grey striped shirt a heavy cotton, that hung well yet looked so casual, his hair recently cut, she liked it shorter and his eyes looking back at her, deep through her eyes into her soul. She wondered if he could read her true thoughts; although she knew exactly what her true feelings were she found it nigh on impossible to verbalise them. He placed the half full bottle safely down in a cooler and turned back, raising his glass to hers they clinked glasses 'to us' is what he wanted to toast 'cheers' is all he said then 'to quaint English customs'.

Harry looked up at the clear blue sky "At least it's not quaint British rain" she commented.

"Are you going to share some of that food?" Dempsey asked "only I'm kinda getting hungry"

She passed him some caviar '"Beluga" he noted "I guess this lot didn't come in the middle of a beef lorry" he looked back at her "You know I never did get back to the Park Lane Hotel"

As they teased each other about their shared past the rest of the friends faded into the whole crowd and Harry and James became engrossed in their own company. Harry happily passed various foods to James who was equally happy to dive in and help himself to more. They sat next to each other stealing glances and longer looks that inevitably meant they caught each other and on those occasions both were looking to try and understand the meaning behind the stare, both desperate to read the heart of the other but both scared in case it wasn't going to give the right message.


	5. Chapter 5

Whilst on the other rug and in the chairs behind them the others were trying to persuade some one to eat the last of this or that James and Harry were at the stage of sharing their last few items. Harry took a bit from the salmon twist then fed the remaining portion into James' open mouth. He had a pot with a few stuffed olives remaining and as he scoffed the remaining few Harry watched "uh hum" she verbally pointed at him and he looked at her. "You know I love these"

"I know" she had chosen them for that very reason and now he looked straight into her eyes then used his fork to feed her the very last of them. She held his gaze and didn't want to break it.

Louise nudged Henry "look" she whispered.

"At what?" he whispered back

"Harry and Jim" she breathed

"They've been there all the time" he said "What do you mean?"

"They're together"

"Well they came together" what do you expect

"No I mean together together"

"You read too much into nothing" he said

"You'll see"

The savoury food was gone and the orchestra was moving on stage. "We'll save the desert for the interval" Harry suggested as she picked up James' glass to sip some of his champagne. He watched her drink from his glass, her lips leaving their faint mark; god he wanted to kiss those lips so much. He couldn't stop his hand reaching up to her face and his finger tracing the line down from her forehead past her fringe and around her face. She held the glass up to him and he took it from her, lingering his hold as his fingers touched hers. He poured the remaining champagne into one glass which he placed between them as they sat tightly side by side and turned to watch the orchestra as the conductor made his way to centre stage.

James liked sharing just one glass, he barely let any champagne cross his lips preferring to take many opportunities to touch Harry as he passed the cup to her . Sometimes he turned away from the orchestra completely and looked at her. He got the impression that she knew he was admiring her but was happy to accept his gaze.

Harry looked through the programme and read the back page listing two forth coming concerts. "So was this the only one tickets were available for?" she asked whilst there was a gap between performances

"Sorry?" Dempsey didn't know where this was leading

"Why did you choose this concert?" Harry asked as low key as she could make it, daring to hope for the answer she dreamed of.

"Because this was the only one with Wagner and that Mozart piece you like" he spoke softly and her heart thumped loudly "we could come again if you'd rather hear something else" he offered a touch forlorn, worried he'd got it wrong.

"No" she replied "you chose the perfect one" she hushed her voice and not for the first time or even 10th wished they were alone; this would make a perfect first date. She carefully surreptitiously examined the tickets trying to find any indication of when they were bought; trying to ascertain if this was a plan conceived pre their resignation row or after. If after then it was a message of his intentions and that seemed hopeful to Harry but still too ambiguous to be certain; it could just be an apology or about still being friends; she wished she knew, she wished that he would say something. She listened to the Mozart now being played – one thing was certain, what ever his motives he had really thought about her and understood. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her again and she turned to look into his eyes desperately trying to understand what was lying behind his gaze, she smiled "Thank you" Oh my god she thought she so desperately wanted to lean across and kiss him, there was no body else in this world who understood her like he did, or remembered so much about her preferences, tastes and dislikes.

There were so many questions she had that she had no idea how to broach, too many answers she really needed to know: What were they doing here? Why did he bring her? Why lie about the spur of the moment idea when he had so obviously planned it? But these were incidentals there was only one real question that she needed to know the answer too, all the others would be answered at the same moment in time; the one and only question was did he actually love her like she knew she loved him?

She needed the answer to be 'yes' and the catastrophic implications of what would follow if the answer was 'no' still kept her from ever asking it. Her life with him, sharing her work, her fun, her friends and even at times her home and food meant she was living in a dream bubble; the outside reality could be far worse or, she reminded herself, far richer and more complete.

She glanced to her side and watched him, then slipped her arm into his. He kept looking forward but she saw the smile in his eyes light up.

The interval came and the friends reformed into one crowd laughing and cavorting together as they moved around, stretched their legs and relieved sitting on the hard ground. Annabel found Louise "Did you watch our Harriet" she asked

"Thank you" Louise said triumphantly as she glared at Henry. "Honestly men wouldn't see a bus if it was parked in front them" Louise added.

"I'd see a bus and tell you if it was route master or one of those new fandangled" busses Henry interrupted

"Yes but men just don't see what us girls see" Annabel re iterated and dragged Isobel off to her right to conspire together.

James was talking to Michael; Harry wandered over to the centre of the crowd "Didn't you say something about dessert?" James asked Harry as she passed him

"I've brought some summer fruits, but we can eat those when it starts up again with that second bottle you brought" she answered and made her way over to Isabel anxious to hear how she and Henry were getting on.

"Us?" Izzy asked "Well me and Henry are just fine what we want is an update on you two!"

"Who?"

"You and James"

"You know, he's a good friend"

"When the hell will you admit that there's more to you two than just good friends"

"When there's something to admit to"

"Harriet I've never seen just good friends so intimate as you two"

"Well now you have"

"So do just good friends kiss?"

"What!"

" Kissing? Do you and Jim?"

"No!"

"Harry I want you to look me straight in the eye and tell me your lips have never met his!"

Harry couldn't. Louise was triumphant.

"Not like you mean, No they haven't" Harry added the caveat

Harry decided that she would have to move on, this questioning only really served to frustrate her because she could see her unfulfilled dreams and denial brought the hopelessness to the fore and made it fact; whilst she had been sitting there sharing food, feeding each other and gazing at him she could dream, imagine and pretend it was all real.

Louise wasn't ready to let things rest yet though

"I just don't believe you Harriet Makepeace"

And because Harry really wanted to hope for more she allowed herself to let slip "not to my knowledge"

Louise grinned and Harry heard her own words and panicked "This conversation ends here" she declared and moved off.

"So James do I have to concede defeat gracefully?" Angela asked Dempsey

"Well I guess you could do if that's what you want, graceful sounds good to me" Dempsey stopped "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked

"You and Harry, she finally caught you"

Dempsey scanned Angela's face looking for the place where the tease would break from – her eyes? Her mouth?

Angela watched his confusion "You two are dating at last?" she clarified

"Well I guess it must have been in the papers, they always get their information wrong" he replied

"So do I still have a chance?" Angela asked

"A chance?"

"To capture your heart Jim, or at least get one date with you?" she looked into his eyes and saw his struggle "I guess not" she laughed with a false bravado, knowing that his heart was sold out, for ever, to Harry.

Harry was listening to Henry, he was prattling on about London buses and her attention was wandering, as she scanned the crowds she saw Joyce Hargreaves crossing back and sitting down in a chair. She looked again to check; yes it definitely was Joyce so she excused herself from Henry and walked down the hill "Joyce" she sounded as delighted as she felt "It's so good to see you. I heard that you were out"

"Not back at work yet, but making a good recovery thank you Harriet" Joyce smiled "I uh" she coughed "uh heard you were back working again, I told you you would" she paused then continued "Did you tell him?"

Harry felt herself blush, it was duly noted by Joyce but there was nothing to tell. Joyce looked at her with an air of disbelief. "What made you come back?" she asked then added "I'm sorry I didn't mean to pry"

"He said he'd resign"

"And that was it? Wouldn't that solve your problem?"

"No that would confound it, you see Dempsey is a cop, he couldn't be anything else it's what makes him it's his whole life, his being and I couldn't see him destroyed"

"Harriet Makepeace" Joyce sighed resignedly "I don't begin to understand you or him but I'm glad that you are back working, the Met deserves the best cops. And" Joyce added "I doubt that anybody else in this city would work with that arrogant rude guy you seem to have lost your heart on." but she smiled as she spoke.


	6. Chapter 6

The orchestra started to return and Harry returned to where Dempsey was already starting on the strawberries. He was lying full length on the blanket on his stomach

"I hope you've saved some for me" she chided

He chose a strawberry "Come and get it" he teased as he held it is his mouth

Harry looked at him in disbelief and took one from the basket and bit it. "Have you even opened the other bottle?" she asked

His teeth cut through the strawberry and he swallowed the first half before catching the other half and eating that as well. "Yes Mam" he passed the bottle over.

Harry poured two glasses and offered he bottle across to Angela for a top up as well. It signalled to Dempsey that this half was going to be about being part of the bigger crowd. He took a handful of berries and propped himself up slightly as he ate them.

The music started and Dempsey lay on his back, then sat up "Didn't you bring a cushion?" he asked Makepeace

"Which I'm sitting on", she tapped his hand stopping him taking more fruit

"No problem" he smiled and lay on his back. He arranged his head on her lap, jiggled around a little to get comfortable then closed his eyes and listened to the music.

With the tousled hair lying in her lap Harry soon found herself running her fingers through it, brushing it away from his eyes and running a finger around various face contours in a very light and idle fashion barely aware of her own actions.

"Heaven" he murmured "feed me a grape"

She dipped a strawberry into her champagne then ran it around his lips, he opened his eyes looked up. His heart pounded at the sight: her flushed face was leaning over his, her mouth slightly parted, her tongue ran around her own lips which she then bit gently. He opened his mouth and swallowed the fruit almost whole. His concentration consumed by the eyes gazing down into his, he could feel her proximity increase as she involuntarily lowered herself.

She stopped and Dempsey felt as if he was living in a suspended film sequence

Harry looked at him, her heart pounded and she regretted every person that sat around them; there was no way this next action could be that public. James felt the hesitation like a mighty earthquake; resignedly he raised himself and tried to convince himself that had everything to do with the friends around them but once again his regret gave birth to fears that the reason Harry had stopped was to do with a deliberate decision not to become involved or even worse - not wanting to be involved.

He sat up next to her; Harry was still feeling relaxed – just not quite that relaxed - she happily turned to Dempsey and actually fed him a grape. His panic temporarily subsided and they finished the fruit in a companionable silence.

The sun finally set, Harry shivered and regretted not bringing a jacket, Dempsey rubbed her back and regretted not having anything to offer her, until he realised he could offer himself.

As the Wagner finished he suggested they move and Harry sat with her back to Dempsey. He leaned over her to protect her back and keep it warm, then with a leg on either side of her wrapped his arms around her "Better?" he asked

"Thank you" she replied

As the next piece played Dempsey relaxed a little and rubbed her shoulders and upper arms then as he tired he started to play with her hair, combing it with his fingers. The light airy music changed tempo into a heavy thunderous piece and James nuzzled his face into Harry's neck. He could smell her perfume.

Verena searched for her jacket to put on, as she did so she noticed the couples and wished that she could be part of one. It seemed that Isobel and Henry had decided to make a go of it, Annabel and Roger were back on again, Sarah and William had been married for over a year now and Harriet Winfield, who'd been the first of them to marry and subsequently divorce, seemed to be in a new relationship now. She didn't know the guy so she prodded Angela "Who's Harriet's guy?"

"Jim"

"So how long have they been together?"

"Depends what you mean by together with those two"

"Well they're looking very cosy to me"

"Me too Verena, but if you ask Harriett she'll deny everything, oh and she calls him James"

"So she divorced the other guy? What was his name?"

"Robert, I guess she has, she never mentions her personal life"

"So that didn't last for long?"

"How long have you been up in Scotland for Verena?" Angela turned and asked

"Three years" was the reply

"Well I wish I had a guy to wrap his arms around me" Angela felt strong pangs of jealousy not helped by Verena's next comments: "Watch him now; he can't stop himself touching her"

"You think Tierney will return over here?" Harry asked out of the blue

"Not for a bit, but if he lays low in Ireland the trail will go cold again"

"And all that work wasted" Makepeace finished his sentence

"So will Spiking's let us go over there?"

"It's not so much Spiking's as upstairs"

"What's with this 'upstairs'? It's always upstairs / red tape / the commissioner – why can't these guys let us get on with our job?" Dempsey's frustration with management and procedure expressing itself yet again

"Have you ever been to Ireland?" Makepeace sidestepped his rhetorical question

"Only Ireland in New York – the Irish bars were quite a world of their own"

"Yeh but the Irish countryside and beaches are beautiful" Harry recalled a family holiday as a child

"May be I could find my grandmothers family?" suggested Dempsey

"May be we could find out what 'Acroush ma Cree' means" Harry turned and looked for some affirmation that James was comfortable with it

"And Jack Dempsey"

"You want to risk prize fighting again?" All through the conversation they were tracking each others eyes, both felt a warming from their togetherness, appreciating their joint experiences and memories

"Those guys are tough fighters"

Harry felt the desire deep with in her to be with Dempsey, that these shared times should be part of a shared life, she knew that they belonged together as a proper couple, she just didn't know if Dempsey realised that at all or if he wanted it.

"If we go undercover may be we could go as a married couple" she tentatively suggested.

His fingers ran through her hair, he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand he wanted so much just to take her in his arms and kiss her, He wanted to say they could go as a proper couple, that he couldn't live on this knife edge any longer, that he needed her as part of his life. His eyes searched hers, moved to her lips and back to her eyes "Remember if they knock me out remember just to hold the towel and say sweet heart you was robbed"

She thrilled at the multiplicity of his touches and caresses, tempted just to throw herself at him, she felt her being would explode with the accumulation of his attentions "You don't mind being married to a yank?" Dempsey asked much more softly than the question demanded, Harry thought she perceived hope interwoven with uncertainty. She turned herself so her face was close to his and she could feel his breath across her lips

"It would make a good cover" was her reply - being married to a yank, well this yank, was all that Harry wanted!

Suddenly their two hearts were thumping with anticipation, wondering if this was going to be the time. The others had finally faded into the background the desires of their bodies pushing all other considerations out; their pulses were racing, their eyes locked and their lips parting. The heat of the moment blazed its own route through reservations, caution and uncertainty.

The fireworks accompanying the finale started,

James jerked back "That's a gun shot"

"It's a firework"

"No it ain't"

He jumped to his feet and scanned the crowd, he spotted the unease in a small circle to the right of them, and then the panic as a body slumped forward.

He was looking for a movement at the edge of the crowd where the escaping gunman would be. He spotted him.

"Twenty seven foot to our right Makepeace, gunman getaway bearing at 300 degrees I'll go after him – you sort the stiff" and he was gone.

The opportunity had slipped away so instantaneously, the cruelty so undeserved, both would wonder how and when it would emerge again but within seconds their minds were targeted on the crime.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry was left with managing the panicking crowds. She spoke with authority, asking her friends to gather names and contact details of everyone in the immediate vicinity as they left. She organised the call to the emergency services and headed straight for the area the gunman had fled from figuring these would be the most important witnesses.

Further a field the crowd were still listening to the concert and watching the fireworks. You could see the ripple of information move forward through the crowd and Harry watched as the ambulance struggled to make progress against the departing crowd whom seem to have divided into the panic-riden and the voyeuristic.

She had long since lost the sight of Dempsey. She knew he had his gun with him, he always did; she had felt its bulk as she had lent back into him, it was just part of his body shape, part of him. She really wanted to be out there with him but unless he called in she had no idea where to start so after taking far too many tributes and praises about her skills she escaped from her effusive circle of friends. She had also let the attending Bobbies and CID leave without considering her own transport situation.

As she scanned the field that had been the overflow event car park there was no vehicle remaining. "Damn you Dempsey" she said out loud although there was no one to hear her curses.

In the intervening hour and a half he hadn't rang in to SI10 or to the local police station or central CID. Her description had been the vaguest of 'white male, medium height and build' which was absolutely worthless. A radio warning had gone out to all patrols regarding a gunman being persuaded by an undercover cop: white male 5'11" 160lb.

Now abandoned in the early hours of Sunday Morning she was furious. Her anger was directed at Dempsey, mainly because she didn't want to direct it on herself – but in truth it was born out of the frustrations of the night and her stupidity for not checking for the car before letting the last of the police cars leave the scene. She wondered if the gunman would return to the scene, sometimes there was this morbid fascination that a killer couldn't ignore that drew them back.

Grateful that Angela had insisted she borrow her coat Makepeace was still aware that she had no gun and felt all the more vulnerable for that. She considered her options of walking up to the main road, finding a phone box and getting a taxi home – or to SI10 but her gut instinct told her to stay put.

Pulling the coat tight she skirted back along the tree line looking for a point where she could watch for anyone returning to the park area. She kept the main building in sight; as it was an unoccupied gallery there was really very little point but it made her feel more secure.

She chose her spot and made herself comfortable, not that comfortable was the right word then she yawned. She needed to stay awake – at least for the next hour or so and consequently she started to talk. She voiced the words in a faint whisper:

"James Dempsey what the bloody hell was tonight about?" She could feel his arms around her, she could picture his smile as she traced the strawberry around his mouth; her own face smiled "Shall I tell you what really infuriates me about tonight? Well I'll tell you anyway: that bloody gunman – what is it Dempsey? – is it a sign? Was it sent to stop us? Because I want you so much…" she paused again as she contemplated how much 'so much' meant "– you see James Dempsey I love you and I'm beginning to suspect that you may feel something for me." She sighed "I have to read the signs and they're not very clear and I don't want to hope where there is no hope but I so want to hope" she was quite again, listening for movement she thought she'd heard the crack of a twig. She picked up the small branch she intended to use in defence and pushed herself further back into the bush.

"Makepeace?" Dempsey whispered

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Makepeace stepped forward again

"I could ask you the same thing partner" Dempsey replied

"Partner! Partner now you're joking Dempsey" Makepeace's repressed fury found it's exit route "You obviously don't need me – you go off on your own – no back up, you don't call in, you don't ask for help, you don't…"

"Hey - give me a break" Dempsey had been somewhat annoyed when he spotted Makepeace but now it was increasing exponentially with each of her accusations.

"Why the hell should I? Tell me one reason why I should cut you a break Lieutenant?"

Keeping his voice low but very determined Dempsey growled "Because, Sergeant, I've spent the last hour looking for you – you didn't call in, you told no one you were staking out here, alone, unarmed – waiting for a mad gunman who's already shot someone tonight – you didn't ask for help!" Every accusation he articulated; every fear he'd felt as he'd radioed SI10, CID, driven to her house and even searched Stringfellows and Tramps he kept to himself.

"Now listen here Dempsey"

"I'm listening"

"I had no transport"

"Balls!"

"No means of communication"

"Rubbish"

"No information"

"You let the transport go. You choose not to find a telephone, you choose…"

"That him?" Sergeant Makepeace's eyes were wide as she saw a man cross from the house, down the slope and towards the right

"Yeh that's him"

"I'll cut off at the house" offered Makepeace

"I'll come from behind and left" Dempsey said as he with drew his gun and made his way in the shadows.


	8. Chapter 8

In the interview room Lieutenant Dempsey and Sergeant Makepeace stood side by side across the desk facing a dishevelled, withdrawn prisoner by the name of Hughes.

"You know what I think?" Dempsey asked

"I'm not sure that I do" Makepeace reflected

"I think it was the heat of the moment" considered Dempsey

"The moment takes over and you just do stuff." Hughes mumbled

"But do you regret it?" asked Harry

"Absolutely" Hughes' voice sounded slightly firmer

"Maybe talking would help" Makepeace was still mulling things over

"They don't listen" a rueful Hughes commented

"Never know what to say" Dempsey contemplated

"Actions – they speak loud" Hughes was thinking out loud now

"And can me misinterpreted" Makepeace retorted

"Misread" Dempsey added

"Misunderstood" Makepeace confirmed

"He was looking at her I know" the prisoner was trying to explain his actions

"So how comes I don't" Dempsey question was rhetorical

"She's mine" Hughes was indignant, the same passion that caused him to shot rising again

"You can't own a woman" Harry pointed out to whoever was listening

"Who said anything about owning?" asked a confused Dempsey

"One woman, one man" Hughes was continuing his own explanation

"Just a matter of which one" Dempsey ruminated

"The passion just started to mount" the prisoner was trying to explain

"Probably escalated somewhat too fast" Harry confirmed

"Sure made me hot" added James

"I lost her now" Hughes flipped into despair

"Have you?" asked Makepeace

"O god, sometimes I think I don't know nothin'" Dempsey echoed the mood change

"Look I don't know what it is with you two but I thought you were interrogating me?" Hughes was agitated

"Sorry" they said in unison as their attention was drawn forward to the prisoner.

Sgt Makepeace took a pen in her hand and started to record the interview.

"So what do you make of all that?" Dempsey asked as they walked away from the interview room at murder squad HQ

"I'm not certain" Makepeace replied

"Me neither" Dempsey scratched his head "Was he talking about us?"

"Were we?" Makepeace reflected

Dempsey didn't know so moved on "What do you say to breakfast – come on I'll treat you"

"Let's go somewhere quiet" Makepeace looked at Dempsey.

Trying to explore the whole field of uncertainty he asked "Maybe we can do that picnic thing again sometime?"

"Yeh" Makepeace paused, she didn't know how to say she hoped next time they could be alone, just the two of them "Soon hey?" she added realising her 'yeh' hadn't sounded as enthusiastic as she had intended.

"Breakfast?" Dempsey returned to his stomach

"And then I guess we'd better show up at the factory - I've got to sort this damn fete out, decide how and when to get my father home to Winfield Hall and work out how to persuade Spikings to let me have more time off – I need at least three days there."

"Are you taking the michael?" Spikings was not impressed

"I'm just asking for one days leave and my rest days to match the weekend"

"Would you like me to put an APB out there to tell the criminals we would all like to work 9 – 5 and have every weekend off"

Harry noted the sarcasm "Look Sir I don't want to do this weekend thing but my father can't and unfortunately that leaves me"

"Unfortunately for whom?" Spikings asked, not wanting an answer he stared at Makepeace and raised his eyebrows "Tell that bloody yank of yours…"

"Excuse me?" Harry tried to hide a rising blush with indignation

"I want all the paperwork up to date, desk work needs to be done…"

"I'm not asking for the whole week off" Makepeace was annoyed

"I want one of you on that surveillance at some point each day, only you and Dempsey have actually met Yancey …"

"Of course Sir" Makepeace smiled her false smile and groaned inwardly, she knew that meant her and Dempsey would spend most of the week working different shifts with different rest days. She left the office. Spikings hadn't formally agreed to her request for time off but she knew it had been accepted and what the cost would be.

Moments after she shut the door he opened it to follow her out

"Of course you could both bloody cut down on the paper work if you left domestic crimes of passion to bloody murder squad! I trust that report is written up"

"As you speak Boss" Dempsey turned back to his typewriter and banged a few keys down.

"A shooting at a picnic concert! Only a bloody yank would attract that" Spikings murmured as he returned to the sanctuary of his own office.


	9. Chapter 9

Post script

Tuesday

Harry pulled her duvet over her and buried her head back into her soft bouncy pillows. She couldn't help the grin from coming back over her face. She'd simply had an evening at home but the ordinariness of it had been perfect.

The first bottle of red wine had gone with the meal she had invited Dempsey over for; she wished she'd had the courage to invite him for dinner just to see him but she had used the caveat of needing to catch up and compare notes and thoughts on Yancey. The second bottle went as her and James had relaxed on the sofa watching TV. As usual he had taken over the remote control and had flicked channels until he found a classic Brando film, each had curled up into opposite corners and made themselves comfortable until Harry had wandered off to the bathroom. On her return James had moved and stretched himself out across the whole sofa. She looked at him and sat on the opposite sofa but it was a poor angle to the TV, she picked up her novel and started to read.

"I'm sorry; you don't want to watch?" James asked

"No no, its fine you watch and I'll read, I know the end anyway" Harry suggested

"So do I princess I'll turn it off if you like."

"It's no problem Dempsey" she found her page and started to read

"Well at least come back over here"

"There's no room" she pointed out

He sat up "there's plenty"

"I'm fine over here"

Dempsey got up and turned the TV slightly so it was angled better for Harry but she continued to read.

He nudged her forward and squeezed himself at the end of the sofa where he could continue to watch the film, his left arm ran along the back of the sofa and Harry automatically wriggled back into him so his body was supporting her. As she turned her page Dempsey's arm had wrapped around her waist and they had sat in a convivial silence engrossed in book and film respectively.

The film turned into the late night news and Harry leaned forward and across to place her book back on the coffee table. As she sat back she stretched and without even thinking just lay down with her head in James' lap, turned to face the TV. He hadn't said anything (he hadn't known what to say) but like the other evening his fingers ran lightly though her hair until the item about drugs when he'd gotten all animated and she had sat up and told him he wasn't solely responsible for wiping out crime in London.

They had caught each others eye again and the pulsing of an increased heart beat was felt by both of them. Harry so wanted to feel his arms around her, pulling her inwards, his lips matching hers, their kiss would be so sweet. James wished he could just pull Harry forwards and tell her that tonight had been perfect, that this was what he wanted; to be with her, to share her life and, it went without saying, to express all of that with his body. 'Home is where the heart is' he recalled the phrase, well this was where his heart was. Both felt a heat starting to radiate through their bodies but since the uncertainty raised over the past few weeks hadn't been resolved at all (both still kept avoiding the issues out of deep rooted fear) Dempsey knew he had no option other than say goodnight.

"I guess I'd better be going" he had said

"Going?"

He couldn't say home, not any more, "back to my place" was the phrase he chose and before anything got too complicated he had grabbed his jacket and started towards the door.

"James" Harry walked towards the door, and he turned back "it was a good night"

"Yeh" he paused "it was" the silence was waiting to be filled, neither knew how

"Look tomorrow I'll write up those reports I promise" Dempsey eventually spoke first.

"I've got those court papers to prepare for next week" Harry added with equal awkwardness. The seconds were ticking by; Dempsey could see concern in Makepeace's eyes and didn't know whether that was in case he did or didn't make the next move.

Unbeknown to the other both were back on the forecourt of Winfield Hall, recalling the farewell after Dempsey had visited to check on Makepeace as she had recovered after Swaybe had abducted her. The sweet brief kiss Dempsey had stolen had been followed by Makepeace walking across to him to return the lightest of kisses, but nevertheless a very deliberate one. Then the imagery of being together at the picnic, the burning desire seen in each others eyes….The time ran out, Harry stepped back just one step and that move provoked a reaction in Dempsey - his lips closed over hers "Goodnight Harry, sleep well" he had breathed just before he had left.

And now Harry was reliving the whole evening, touching her lips again and smiling. She pulled the quilt over her and giggled; she had been with Dempsey when she had brought it, having finally decided to ditch her blankets and they had stood in the shop arguing over which tog rating to get. She had insisted his opinion was pointless since he would never sleep under it but right now she was beginning to think that one day he might.


End file.
